The War of Lemuria and the Prince of Avalon
by Lunadia
Summary: Yaoi Slash Drarry snape-Mentor. Post OotP. Harry and Draco discover their similarities & are forced to spend some time together before school. Did I mention Animigi, wandless magic, elementals, elves, vampies, veela, Avalon, and Lemuria? Slytherin-Harry.
1. Do As I Please

A/N: So, this is the re-write. Hopefully it'll be improved from last time.

_**Spoilers:**_ H.P. 1-5

_**Warning:**_ This is YAOI. This means boy/boy action. If you don't like, don't read. So if I get flames on how gross I am, I'll ignore it, cuz if you didn't like you wouldn't read, and if you didn't read you wouldn't flame. So a flame means you read despite my warning, so you're an idiot for not taking me seriously. Also, there may be violence and suicide attempts and dark depressing stuff and it might be just a little morbid later on... rated R for later chapters, as you will soon see.

Anyways... While this is Yaoi it is not all about sex, it will have a plot, action, adventure, emotions, etc. If anyone has specific requests or ideas, feel free to email me. My email is on my profile. if you give me an idea and I use it in my story, I will give you proper credit.

_**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own, so don't sue. This will be my only disclaimer since I don't feel like ding one for every chapter.

"talking"

'_thinking'_

time change, character change

One more thing, this is after Order of the Phoenix, (OotP) and everything in that book is very relevant in this one.

_**The War of Lemuria and the Prince of Avalon**_

Chp 1- Do as I please

(Harry's POV)

Harry was, eerily, glad to be returning home that summer. Tonks, Mad-Eye, and the others had ensured that he was to have a better summer than usual. He was on the way home from Hogwarts, and for once the car was silent. Even Dudley and Uncle Vernon simply stared straight ahead, ignoring Harry completely. It was bliss. He was to write to an Order member at least once every three days. If they did not receive an owl from Harry then they would come to check on him. The Dursleys knew this, just as they knew that if they were caught mistreating Harry they would pay the consequences. Summer had never looked so inviting.

Yet nothing good ever came for Harry without just as much bad, and this summer it was the worst. Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, was dead. His one and only chance to escape the Dursleys forever, the one man who could've been a true parental figure, the one man who had done everything he possibly could for Harry, was gone. Lost to the mysterious veil of death. Not to mention the fact that Voldemort had returned and all the wizarding world finally believed it. It had taken them long enough to! All last year the Daily Prophet had made him out to be a crazy attention seeking child, and Dumbledore a crackpot old man who couldn't discern truth from reality. Not to say that he wasn't, of course, but that was beside the point. They also said the headmaster always believed his favorite student, the precious "golden boy", no matter how wild the tale. As if he would make up something like that. What, did they think _he_ had killed Cedric in his fourth year? But now…**NOW**, when it was really too late for it to matter, they believed him. Well that was all fine and dandy, but it wouldn't bring Sirius back.

No wonder he was looking forwards to summer really, what with all that had happened last year. Before he even managed to go to school he'd been attacked by dementors, expelled, tried, found innocent, and returned to school. All year his anger had boiled just beneath the surface, and he'd had many nightmares in which he saw Voldemort's actions. On top of that he'd had Occulmency lessons with Snape, and everyone was told he was taking remedial potions, which was the equivalent of potions for dummies. Of course, when he'd seen one of Snape's memories about James Potter the lessons had stopped and Voldemort had sent him a vision in which his Godfather was being held captive. Harry had rushed off to the ministry with some friends on Thestrals, only to realize that Sirius was safe at home. Voldemort had lured him there to get a prophecy concerning the two, and as Harry fled the Dark Lord his friends were hurt one by one.

Just when he was about to lose the fight and his life the Order had arrived, including Sirius. Harry had been thrilled to see his godfather alive, but Sirius never would've had to come if Harry had put all of his effort into his Occulmency lessons. When Bellatrix Lestrange pushed Sirius behind the veil, and he didn't come back, Harry simply lost it. He followed her and tried to use the cruciatius curse on her. Key word being tried. It seemed that even after the only family he had left was killed, harry still didn't have enough hatred to perform it correctly. Which didn't make much sense to Harry, he'd put not only his hatred of her, but 15 years of hatred for his muggle relatives into that spell. It _should_ have worked. That was something to be considered later though. After a few minutes of tactless dodging Dumbledore arrived, and Voldemort. Voldemort and Lestrange got away, and Harry was left with the headmaster as members of the Ministry of magic arrived. Fudge saw Voldemort before he escaped, and Harry and Dumbledore were considered crazy no longer. Yippie.

During the actual school year Harry became leader of the D.A. (Dumbledore's Army), where he taught other students Defense Against the Dark Arts. He had finally dated Cho Chang, and realized that she wasn't so great to be around after all. Perhaps as a friend, but after Cedric Diggory's death the two could never be more. He had taken her out on Valentine's Day, and it had been one disaster after another. Not something he wanted to repeat, that was for sure.

Ron, Hermione, and even Draco Malfoy had all become prefects, and he himself had not. That was a bit annoying because Ron liked to show off his badge, but it wasn't really much of a big deal, after all, Harry had his hands full with everything else. Later Dumbledore himself informed Harry that this was because the he had thought Harry had enough responsibilities, and deserved to have some time to himself, after all, he was only a boy. And he had been right, 

partially. Harry had been in charge of the D.A., he had tons of homework, O.W.L.S., Detention, and before it was taken he'd had Quidditch practice.

Then there was Umbridge. He truly despised that vile cat-crazy woman from the Ministry of Magic. She had given him detentions for "lying" about Voldemort's return. It was in these detentions that he acquired the now-faded scars on his hands that read 'I will not tell lies'. He'd written the lines with a quill she gave him, soon discovering that he was writing with his own blood. Aside from that were all of her new rules, and her inquisitional squad, of which Malfoy was the leader. Damn infuriating blonde was always out to get him, as if he didn't have enough trouble on his own. Then she only made him hate her more when she banned him from Quidditch, and when he found out that he wasn't alone in his blood-quill suffering Harry was ready to blow. He still didn't think she was suffering enough, not in Azkaban. She deserved much worse…another topic for later he supposed.

Not that any of that mattered now... Now the Dark Lord had returned, and Sirius was dead. It didn't matter if he never played Quidditch again. In fact, it didn't matter if he never returned to Hogwarts again, considering the huge mess he'd left behind. If it weren't for Ron and Hermione he'd probably just give up all together. But he couldn't. Harry planned to become a strong Auror, or at least that's what he told everyone. Who could blame him though, he could hardly imagine telling the Twink that he wanted to be a bar-tender, or a photographer, or maybe a writer. He was the boy-who-lived; he had an image to maintain after all.

His good mood about the coming summer was gone, and he was drowning in wave after agonizing wave of a dark depression. Where would he go after Hogwarts? He had planned to go live with Sirius, but that was no longer possible. And he couldn't stay with Ron and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, they had enough trouble with their children, mainly their son Percy. He knew he wasn't a child, hadn't been for a long time, but the thought of living with adults was still appealing. Harry knew he could get a London flat and live on his own if he really wanted, but if he survived Voldemort he wasn't so sure he'd _want_ to be alone. Then again…it all depended on how the war went really.

He sighed. _'What am I supposed to do now?'_He wondered as he looked out the car window to the scene spread before him. They were driving through a muggle city, and just by watching the people's faces he could tell that they were all ignorant of Voldemort and his return. He sighed again.

'_Ignorance is bliss. I wonder how the others are faring… I wonder if Percy has apologized to Ron's Mum and Dad yet...probably not.'_ he sighed a third time.

"Stop that sighing boy! You should be grateful that we even bothered to come get you! We could have just left you there after all the trouble you caused last summer you know!" Vernon shouted, his face getting a little redder.

"And I would have preferred it!" Harry shot back. "Believe me; I don't come back because I want to." he said hotly, glowering at his uncle and practically daring him to yell back. He didn't care about the consequences, it all seemed so unimportant now. Vernon took the dare.

"Well then get out! You heard me, get out of my car!" Vernon yelled, pulling the car over.

"We didn't come to get you so you could be your usual ungrateful little self! Just because you're to write does not mean your summer's going to be any better than the last, you will still treat your Aunt and me with respect! Do you understand boy?!" He continued yelling with the veins in his forehead popping out. Harry didn't answer right away, his own anger quickly rising to the challenge.

"I will do what I please! You _**WILL NOT**_ control me this year! And you WILL let me have my books, and my wand! I will not do all of the chores either! You will treat me the same as you treat Dudley, or I won't obey you in the slightest, do _YOU _understand?" he yelled, knowing that he'd gone too far, but still not finding it within himself to care.

'_So he might beat me, so what? Maybe the physical pain will numb the pain I feel inside.'_

"WHAT!!" Vernon roared, jumping out of the car and yanking Harry's door open.

"What did you say boy?" He asked as he pulled the boy to his feet, his purple face inches from Harry's.

"I said," Harry began calmly, "I will do what I please. And you will treat me and Dudley the same." he stated, staring directly into Vernon's glare, and allowing him to see Harry's defiance, pride, and utter indifference towards his threats.

"You will pay for that when we get home you insolent little brat!" Vernon shouted, shaking Harry before tossing him back into the car and slamming the door.

The rest of the ride back to Surrey was silent, but when they arrived at Number Four Privet Drive Vernon turned to look at his nephew.

"Dudley, Petunia, and I are going inside. You will wait in the car until I come get you. Is that clear?" He managed to ask in a semi-calm voice.

"No."

"What?" He asked, disbelief written all over his face.

"I said, No. I will not wait in the car. I've had a long day, and I'm taking my books up to my room and laying down." Harry said, looking into his Uncle's eyes again.

"You will remain here boy!" Vernon roared. "In my household you will do as I say!" He screamed, spit spattering on Harry's face.

"Uncle Vernon," Harry warned, drawing his wand. "I will hex you if you do not leave me alone. Don't think for even an instant that I won't."

"What, and risk getting expelled from that school of yours? Not likely."

"Uncle Vernon, it's like this. I had a bad year. As you know, my godfather died."

"Some godfather, he was a nuisance who got what he deserved!" Vernon interrupted, eyes bulging. Harry's wand emitted red sparks and Vernon hastily drew back.

"DO NOT, EVER, EVER, SPEAK BADLY OF PEOPLE I CARE ABOUT AGAIN! GOT IT? YOU WILL DO AS _I_ SAY NOW!" Harry screamed, watching his Uncle's face became positively livid.

"As I was saying," Harry continued brandishing his wand at Vernon's open mouth. "I've had a bad year. I could really care less if I get expelled. Don't believe me? Just try me. I DARE you." Harry said coldly, meaning every word.

Vernon looked ready to explode, and Harry could visibly see him trying to reel in his temper. Then all of a sudden there was a fist in Harry's face, and everything went black.

* * *

So guys, how was the remake? I didn't change a whole lot, other than making the first person pov disappear. I couldn't stand reading it, and I don't think I could continue the story like that. I know it's short, but Review please! Loves ya!

Lunadia


	2. Suicide Letters

"talking"

'_thinking'_

time change, character change

_**The War of Lemuria and the Prince of Avalon**_

_**Chp 2-Suicide Letters**_

(Harry's POV)

Harry blinked rapidly, but all he saw was darkness. _'What's going on?'_ It all came back to him in a rush. He sat up and tried to move, searching with his fingers for his wand. He was still in the car and all his belongings were gone, including his wand.

'_And why is it so damned dark!?'_ He thought heatedly, feeling his face. _'Oh...'_ He was wearing a blindfold, and it was tied tightly around his head. He groaned. Now he would really pay for his actions. At least for the next three days. _'Why can't anything ever go easily?'_ Suddenly he heard footsteps, and he knew Uncle Vernon was coming to get him. _'I'd better try and do what he wants... for now'_.

Suddenly the car door flew open and Harry was dragged to his feet. His hands were quickly tied behind his back and he was lifted over his Uncle's shoulder and carried into the house.

"Now listen closely boy, we have your stick and other things locked up somewhere safe, and if you struggle, disobey, or even _try_ to get your things, you will be hurt. You will be knocked out and I will drive halfway to London and toss you into the street without your things. Got it?"

Harry nodded meekly. "Yes, sir."

"Good."

Vernon dragged Harry upstairs into his room, where he untied the boy and removed his blind fold before slamming the door and locking it. Harry looked around and, to his horror, saw bars on the window, and a food slot in the door like before.

"What about the others? They'll be expecting me to write to them." He stated matter of factly, trying desperately to maintain his composure.

"And you will. I will stand behind you and see to it that you write, otherwise I will snap that stick of yours in two, and I'll toss your trunk in the ocean. Understood?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon."

"Good." Harry groaned as he heard his Uncle walk away.

_'I'm in trouble now...'_

With that thought he climbed into bed, but how could he sleep?

'_And I thought this summer was going to be better…so much for that. Sirius is gone because of me, and now I've managed to get cut off again…and I've no way to tell anyone…shit. This is bad…but, maybe someone will notice. I'll have to try to drop hints in my letters…'_

_**Two Months Later **_

As the last two months had passed, Harry had been fed once a day, and beaten nearly as often. He had a broken arm, and it was sort of greenish, but the Dursleys refused to take him to a muggle hospital. His nose was also broken, as were a few of his ribs, and he was missing his left ring finger. He was forced to write happy letters to everyone, and did so under threat of an even more severe beating.

'_What should I do? I just want to die, to join Sirius wherever he may be. Death couldn't be that bad... could it? I wouldn't have to worry about Voldemort, or putting my friends in danger. Hell, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would be quite pleased. As would Malfoy. And if I were to die... I might get to see my Mum and Dad!'_ He thought excitedly. _'There's got to be a way... I can't very well announce to Voldemort that I'm here... not without my wand... Oh! I'll have to write letters to Ron, Hermione, and of course Dumbledore. I mean, that stupid prophecy said I was dead anyway right? Why not die without leading more friends in danger? And why should I keep Sirius and my Parents waiting? If only I had my quill... A pen and paper always work...AHA!'_ he jumped up, spotting the utensils he needed._ 'I can't believe they haven't come yet. Every day I pray to be rescued, and every day things get worse. The hints I've dropped are obvious, and they __**know**__ I've never been this "happy" with my relatives before. Maybe they'll understand…I have to make them see…it's not that I'm dark, it's not that I want to leave the world at Voldemort's mercy.It's just…I'm 15. How can they expect me to save them, when I can't even savew myself?I'll make them understand, they're my friends, my family. They'll forgive me.'_ And with that thought Harry began his letters.

_**Dear Hermione,**_

_**I'm really sorry about this. If you are reading this, I am most likely dead. I have decided that life without Sirius just isn't worth living, especially since I am to be killed by Voldemort, or kill him myself, which I don't see happening. I am dreadfully sorry; you and Ron are my best of friends. You especially have always been close to me, but I know one day you and Ron will get together, and where would I be then? You see, something bad has happened and I'm ready to die now. It's not that I've gone dark and want Voldemort to win or anything, I just…can't handle it anymore. How can I save the world when I can't even save myself?Please trust me, and forgive me one day. I love you Hermione, and I always will. You're like the sister I never had. By ending my life now, I've saved you and Ron from being on the front lines. As students you'll have the same protections as anyone else, and when Voldemort is killed, for I know he **__**will be, you'll be safe. I can almost see Sirius and my Mum and Dad waving at me. They're waiting for me 'mione. Please try to understand, there is nothing you or anyone else could've done to stop me, so don't feel guilty. I'm leaving my money to you and Ron, and I trust you to split it evenly. My invisibility cloak is for you, and Ron can have my firebolt. Remember, this is not your fault. Love you always and hope to see you again someday, though preferably later than sooner,**_

_**Harry James Potter**_

'_Well, that looks okay...' _He thought, sealing the first one. Now for Ron, then Dumbledore.

_**Dear Ron,**_

_**I am truly sorry for doing this to you and Hermione, but it is time for me to leave this world. I have decided that I'm sick of everyone else manipulating me and using me for their own benefit. I have decided to take my life into my own hands, by ending it. Read Hermione's letter for all the details. I am entrusting you with my Firebolt, please take care of it. This isn't your fault, you've been a great friend and brother, but friendship just isn't enough to get me through this. Please, try and forgive me, and I know you have a crush on 'mione, so try comforting her. You two will need each other a lot more when I'm gone. You'll bemuch safer without me around to drag you into trouble, so try to keep it that way, kay? Brothers past even death,**_

_**Harry James Potter**_

Now on to the Headmaster...

_**Dear Dumbledore,**_

_**I must regretfully inform you that I have finally decided to take the coward's way out. I am taking my life into my own hands, and ending it now. We both know Voldemort's going to kill me anyways, and I'd rather be with my Mum and Dad sooner than later. Please understand that the grief I bare, topped with the way things are going here, is just too much for me to handle. I have not the bravery of a true Gryffindor. It's not that I've gone dark and want Voldemort to win or anything, I just…can't handle it anymore. How can I save the world when I can't even save myself? It is not your fault that I am doing this, and it is not because of the prophecy alone. It is a combination of Sirius's death, The Prophecy, My guardian's current behavior, and the fact that I have no way to relieve my pain. Normally I would use magic, but seeing as that is not allowed I can't. And I'm not sure even that would help, it feels as if the very air I breathe is poisonous, and all I want is to finally end it. Please understand Headmaster, I am not who everyone thinks I am. I am not The-Boy-Who-Lived, Savior of the wizarding world. I am Harry Potter, the 15-year-old who couldn't bear the grief of the last 5 years. Most people, if forced to do all that I've done, would have taken the easy way out long ago. I am sorry to disappoint you sir, but I do not wish to be a pawn in this game we play with Voldemort. I will not sit around here and wait for him to kill me as he did my parents, I cannot wait that long. Please try to understand, I am human, just like everyone else, and prophecy or **__**not I simply can't handle all that's happened. I am sick of being known only by my scar, and not for whom I truly am. I see people on the streets and they call out to me, adoration written in their eyes. They believe that I am to be their savior, their hero. But they don't know me. Sometimes all I want is to be known. Not for my scar, but for me, the way I act and feel. People don't care about that. They don't care what thoughts run through my head. They don't even know that my godfather died for our cause. Until recently he was forced to hide because they believed him to be evil. Will I one day be forced to hide because I don't kill Voldemort? If I do not fulfill their stupid prophecy, then will the very people who adore me come to hate me? They don't even know who I am! I am just like them! I am just a grief-ridden teenage boy, just like anyone else! I have no great powers, no bravery, and no secret way to kill Voldemort. All I have are my friends, seeing as that my family is gone. And I will put my friends in danger no longer. Perhaps it is the coward's way out, but I am dying on the inside a little more each day, and I can bare this pain no longer. I truly am sorry to have disappointed you; you were like a grandfather to me.**_

_**Sincerely and always,**_

_**Harry James Potter**_

'_Maybe not true, but he doesn't need to know that. Manipulative bastard that he is. If he knew how I really feel, about him, the war, and everything, he'd probably use it to find me an excuse for more training for the defeat of Voldemort. Ugh.'_ he thought as he sealed them too. _'Now how am I supposed to send them?' _He wondered, looking for a way to pick the lock. Then he saw her. Hedwig was in his room, seeing as that he had to mail letters to Tonks and the rest of the Order.

"Here Hedwig. I want you to take these to Hermione, Ron, and Dumbledore. It's important, and I'm sorry, and I love you." Harry said, petting her gently on the head. She just looked at him, as if to say _'And I get out of this room how?'_

"Oh! That's easy! I'll just... pry off... these bars." he said pulling with all his might. It didn't work.

"Fine then, I'll cut a hole in the Ra damned ceiling!" he shouted, climbing on a chair and attempting to smash the roof with his fists. He continued at it until his hands were bloody, not even noticing the searing pain from his injuries, or the way that his broken leg didn't give out. It wasn't until Hedwig bit his ear hard enough to draw blood that he realized he was trembling and the world seemed to be spinning.

"Alright, then what do _you_ suggest I do?" He raised an eyebrow at the Owl. She just hooted.

"Fine. Encarpay!" Harry shouted at the ceiling, pointing his finger like a wand.

He didn't expect anything to happen, but was surprised when a nice round hole appeared in the ceiling. He was suddenly shocked, but then, he guessed it was his emergency situation. Perhaps sensing his desperation, he had performed the accidental magic of his childhood. Either way he sent Hedwig off on her journey.

Now all he needed was a knife. He looked around Dudley's old room, and soon enough found what he was looking for. But before he could do anything Vernon came in with Hedwig in his hands. He stuffed her and her letters into the cage and stood over the boy glowering menacingly.

"So, tried to call for help huh? Well, Now you'll pay!" He thundered.

Harry obeyed his instincts and curled up as much as he could before Vernon managed to get his fingers around Harry's throat, throttling the child. Then Harry couldn't breath. He struggled at first, until he realized that this was what he wanted. When he felt like he was about to pass out, he was thrown to the floor gasping for breath.

He felt a big heavy foot collide with his ribs, re-breaking the healed ones and pushing one of the broken ones out through Harry's back. The child screamed and a large meaty hand lift him up by his hair. That hand was all that kept Harry standing as he felt a fist break his cheekbone, then his jaw. The fists went everywhere, and no matter what Harry did he couldn't stop them. Soon he was seeing black and grey, and it was then that he was tossed to the floor like a rag-doll.

Vernon came back a few minutes later with a studded belt, in which he had added broken pieces of glass and rusty nails. He proceeded to whip Harry's already open back and legs with it, and the boy felt great chunks of flesh tear off as he gave in to the pain, screaming in pure unadulterated agony. Vernon had done this before, but the nails and glass were new, normally it only had the sharp metal spikes. Harry's vision flashed red, and he knew it was from the blood that ran from his head down into his eyes.

Then Uncle Vernon kicked him in the ribs, flipping Harry over with his foot and lashing his nephew's chest with the whip-like belt. Fire laced Harry's veins, and he knew that if Vernon did not stop soon, and maybe even if he did, Harry would get his wish.

"That ought to teach you to disobey me! Remember this lesson well boy, and don't try any funny business again!" Vernon yelled, slamming and re-locking the door.

Harry saw only grey, and then blurry images as he realized his vision was going out. He just lay there, unable to move, and when he coughed a large amount of blood appeared on the carpet. He knew that if I was to black out now, he wouldn't wake up. And though he'd decided he was ready to die, he wanted to do it on his own terms, not anyone else's. So he struggled to a sitting position, and picked up the knife from where he'd dropped it. Harry gave a final smile as he defiantly slashed his wrist, watching in muted fascination as the blood gushed down his arm. Then, as the first wave of nauseating pain hit, he slashed the other wrist.

'_There. It's done. I'm coming Sirius...'_ He smiled contentedly, not hearing the horrified screech that came from below.

* * *

So what do you think? Please R&R, and lemme know what you think!

Lunadia


	3. A Grudging Respect

"talking"

'_thinking'_

time change, character change

_**The War of Lemuria and the Prince of Avalon**_

_**Chp 3-A Grudging Respect**_

(Snape's POV)

"You!? You... who are you?" Vernon shouted as Petunia cowered behind him. They were making quite a scene, for a tall, pale, thin man had just appeared on the front lawn. Vernon was washing his car, and, luckily for him, no neighbors had seen.

"My name is Severus Snape. And you are the guardians of Harry Potter I presume?" Snape drawled.

"We are." Vernon began gruffly. "And we don't want _his_ kind around here. So you can just go back to wherever you came from because he isn't any more special than my Dudley. He's misbehaved and is being punished, no visitors allowed. And no, you can't come back later; we don't want _your_ kind around here." Vernon spat, glaring at the potions master.

"Well," Snape began coldly, "It really doesn't matter what you want or don't want _muggle_, I'm here to take Potter to Hogwarts."

'_And if it weren't for your lack of respect for me, I might rather like your attitude. It's about damn time someone treated the brat like he deserves.'_ Snape thought.

Vernon's eyes bulged at the mention of Hogwarts, but he moved to quickly block the front door.

"He's not going! Summer isn't even over yet and the boy will have to suffer his punishment!"

'_I like this man's style. At least Potter isn't treated like a king as Albus indicated. But still... something's not right. He should be able to hear us perfectly, and from the way he talks about his home life you'd think he wanted to come back. Why isn't he running out the front door with his things?_' Snape thought glancing up at the window with bars on it.

"That's his room, correct?"

"What of it? The boy has a nasty mouth, and he gets the punishment he deserves." Vernon shouted again.

Snape simply dissaperated. When he reappeared he immediately noticed that something was wrong. He hadn't even heard Potter's expected gasp of surprise and dislike. Snape had been 

sent to check on Potter because his letters had been unusually cheerful for someone whose beloved godfather had just died. Dumbledore and the rest had grown tired of the obvious statements about how badly the child wanted to escape, but they planned on talking to him well and good when he returned to HQ. After all, he shouldn't abuse his power as prophesized killer of Voldemort just so he could escape his annoying muggle relatives. Snape knew the Order expected a little bit of trouble from the muggles, but he doubted they'd ever expected this. What Snape saw when he looked down was Harry Potter, lying on his side in a pool of blood. He gasped in horror.

'_No... This cannot be... he can't be... no..'_ Snape could only stare.

Potter wore no shirt and strips and chunks of flesh were missing from his back and chest. Then Snape noticed the boy's wrists, both which had been slashed and were still bleeding. He came to his senses and did a quick closing spell that temporarily stopped the blood flow. Then, as gently as he could, Snape lifted the boy up, realizing just how light Potter was. As he walked to the door he saw that it was locked, and a food slot was the only opening. Snape looked on in disgust. He might not like him, but he would never do such a thing to anyone. Not even Potter.

"Accio Trunk! Accio wand!" He yelled. Right before he dissaperated Hedwig gave a soft hoot, and he saw the letters attached to her feet.

"Accio Owl!"

Then he was gone. He reappeared in the Hospital wing at Hogwarts, yelling for Madam Pomfrey.

"Hurry up Poppy, he's dying!" Snape shouted as he carried the boy to a hospital bed.

"ALBUS! COME QUICK!" the Hogwarts nurse yelled.

She put Harry in the bed and began rapidly muttering healing spells as she forced a blood restorative liquid down his throat. As the headmaster arrived Madam Pomfrey removed the sheet so that Dumbledore, who had just entered, could see the chunks of missing flesh from the boy's back. She cast another spell, and the open wounds healed themselves, fading away to scars. It was then that they noticed the many older scars covering Harry's legs, chest, and back. It was horrible.

"Albus...I can't believe...for how long…"

"Neither can I Poppy." The headmaster said, sitting down and resting his head in his hand.

At that moment the old fool looked every inch his age, but Severus knew it was an act to distract the nurse from her second question. He wasn't a spy for nothing.

"Harry never said a thing about this. Not to any of us. If we had know how he was being treated... I would never have sent him back there for so long." The headmaster sighed, already re-directing the blame, and to Potter no less, as Severus himself often did. Snape scowled, 

knowing the medi-witch was falling for it without even a glimmer of doubt in her head. Snape knew better than to trust so blindly, especially with Albus Dumbledore. No, Severus knew something was going on.

"Now, now Albus, it's not your fault." The nurse said, fretting about the room and bringing them all pepper up potions.

"I'll pass." Snape replied, paler than normal and absorbed in his thoughts.

"Severus, you need it even more than the headmaster and myself. You're positively white!"

He knew it was true. But he couldn't help it. While Potter had been bleeding to death, he had been thinking that he liked the way the muggles treated him. He had been pleased, because year after year Albus had reported that the Dursleys treated Potter like royalty. Severus had been glad to see it was not true. How could this have happened? How could Potter have endured so much pain without telling anyone? And what on Earth was Albus hiding? Why did the old man feel the need to lie about the golden boy's home life? These thoughts made Severus blanch, and he wondered if this wasn't the first summer the boy had been found like this.

As if tired of being ignored, Hedwig suddenly hooted for everyone's attention. She too had seemingly been deep in thought on the state of her master.

"What? Oh! Albus! The owl has notes attached to her legs!"

Dumbledore went to the notes, reading first his, then Ron and Hermione's. He shook his head and sat down with a thud. Not only had Harry been suffering physically, but emotionally as well. He let the others read the letters, knowing they'd want an explanation. Now they were all shocked into silence. Even Snape was in awe of what the boy had done.

And Potter was right, to a degree. Snape had never thought of him as anything other than The-boy-who-lived. He had always acted like Potter was just an attention seeking little brat. Then again, that's all Albus made him seem to be. The old headmaster said Potter had a cushy life at home, although he was a bit attention-deprived. He never told Severus to treat him poorly, but he never said anything against his treatment of the Potter brat either. But, like Severus, Potter had been forced into situations by the headmaster, and like Severus he hadn't been ready. They had placed a great burden on his shoulders, but they had done it too soon. Snape had always thought so, but he had assumed that Albus knew what he was doing. He had assumed that Albus had learned from his mistakes, mistakes made with Severus himself. It seemed that that was not the case.

'_Damn! If only he hadn't gotten his stupid godfather killed! Then we'd all be fine now!'_ Snape thought, reverting back to his usual self and finding a way to blame Black and Potter.

"What are we supposed to do Albus?" Pomfrey asked. "Should we call in a psychiatrist from St. Mungo's?"

"Perhaps. Either way, we'll have to keep him here for the rest of the summer. Maybe we should invite some of his friends to keep him company as well, and to watch over him..." Dumbledore thought aloud.

"That's a good idea, but Ron and Hermione are both off somewhere with their families. Who else should we invite?" asked Pomfrey.

"Well, I loath to suggest it," Snape began, "But what about Remus Lupin? Potter always seemed fond of him... maybe he can talk some sense into the boy..." _'At this point, I want to find out who knew how much, and why nothing was done about it. This boy might be seriously damaged, and though I don't particularly care, I certainly don't want another dark lord on our hands…'_. That's what he told himself anyway.

"That's a brilliant idea! Maybe he can cheer Harry up! He was Sirius's best friend after all, and a friend of the boy's father!" exclaimed Pomfrey.

"Yes, I agree. I shall send an owl for him at once." Dumbledore said as he left the Hospital wing for his own rooms.

"And Poppy? Watch Harry for me all right? Lupin will want to see him when he wakes up..."

"Yes, Albus." She said as she gave the teen some dreamless sleep potion.

He should wake up in about two days with the dosage she gave him. Poppy had seen the boy in the hospital wing often enough that she had gotten rather close to him, or at least she thought she had. He must have used a glamour to cover the scars…and she hadn't even noticed…this did not bode well for him, or for the wizarding world. She could only hope that Harry would forgive them.

_**1 day Later**_

(Lupin's POV)

When Remus Lupin got an owl from Albus, he didn't think much of it. His first thought was that it was another request for information about the Werewolves and their position in this war. When he opened it and read it, all color vanished from his face, and he let out a low growl as the hair on his arms and neck stood on end. This was _his_ pup that those muggles had dared to mess with. Remus managed to calm himself down, for he knew he couldn't go to Harry in this state. He knew that the fragile child would misunderstand, and think that the anger was directed at him.

'_Oh Harry…why didn't you tell us…I'll kill those bloody muggles, I really will. Maybe I can get Severus to help me with the legal shite, but I'm fairly certain that werewolves who kill to protect members of their pack are immune to punishment…something to look into anyway…'_ he thought as he prepared to apparate to the edge of the castle wards.

Once there Remus walked up to the castle doors at a quick pace, only slowing when he neared the hospital wing. His inhuman smell picked up the scent of old blood, and his steps slowed as he tried to prepare himself for the sight he knew awaited him. No amount of preparation would have been enough.

"Oh my!" Remus gave a gasp of surprise upon seeing Harry's condition, and then he fixed Madam Pomfrey with a stare and said "Tell me everything."

"He was beaten by his so-called 'family'!" Pomfrey muttered bitterly. "As close as I am to the boy, I should've noticed something. He's been glamouring himself for years Remus. Years! They must've been abusing him his whole life, there are injuries here as old as fourteen years and not just a few either. How could they…and there are signs of other things, things that only therapy or Legilimency might reveal. I'm worried Remus. The boy is emotionally unstable, and understandably so. I know you left after his third year because Albus asked you to, but he really needs you now, and not just for a brief visit. He wrote letters…you should read them." She finished softly.

Remus read them quickly, and by the time he was done he had tears in his eyes. This was Harry, his pup, the boy he'd wanted nothing more than to take care of since he'd met him when Harry was 13. Even then he'd thought that there was something off about the boy, but he'd chalked it up to the dementor's effects.

"Harry…oh my Harry…If I'd but known…I never meant to leave your side, but it seems even I overlooked your situation…and to think that I sent you back to those muggles willingly. Why didn't Dumbledore tell us there were problems? I know Minerva said they were the wrong sort to raise you…but I never thought much of it. Harry, when I taught you the Patronous charm, I did it for you, I never meant to indicate that you should teach it to others…I never meant for any of last year to happen. And after all that, I should've stayed with you this summer…oh pup, I am so sorry…" Remus whispered, a soft spatter of tears spilling from his eyes down onto Harry's bed.

Remus's hands were gripping the sheet so hard that his knuckles were white, and red little moons appeared on his palms. His shoulders were shaking and his eyes seemed to be battling between showing his rage at everyone who allowed this to happen and his sorrow that it had happened at all, and that he had not been there to help put a stop to it. But he was here now, and that was a start.

Everyone was so wrapped up in their own thoughts that no one noticed when the boy twitched. They didn't see the way his eyes moved under his eyelids, and they certainly didn't count on the dreamless sleep potion wearing off so rapidly. So when Harry began screaming at the top of his lungs Remus Lupin jumped, falling backwards, and Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey, Snape, and McGonagall all came rushing in. Well, all except Snape. He sort of glided in. He would never _rush_ to the side of the Potter child.

Being the last to arrive on the scene at Harry's bedside, Severus thought it prudent to speak up.

"Well, what's wrong with him?" he snapped, irritated at being called to the hospital wing in the middle of his brewing.

"I'm not entirely sure Severus." Madam Pomfrey replied. "The Dreamless sleep potion shouldn't have worn off yet, not for another 22 hours…At least he's still asleep. That must be one doozy of a nightmare though." She finished softly.

"Perhaps," began Dumbledore, "his emotions are too strong, and the potion simply could not block the strongest of his subconscious thoughts?" He asked Pomfrey raising an eyebrow.

"That is a possibility Albus, but it poses problems." Madman Pomfrey frowned as she thought of the possibilities.

"What sort of problems Poppy?" Remus asked tentatively, his fear for Harry plainly etched onto his face.

"Well, we can't wake him for one thing. The shock of waking from such a dream, especially in his state, could kill him." She said grimly. "For another thing, if his emotions regarding his situation are that powerful, then bringing him back to us will be difficult, if it's even possible. Lastly, if we do bring him back to us, he may never forgive us for it."

McGonagall gasped at this revelation, covering her mouth with her long fingers. Remus stayed where he was on the floor, surprised by the seriousness of the situation. Did Harry really have emotions so strong that a drought of dreamless sleep potion wouldn't work? And he was screaming. Was what he felt that bad? Had they caused the-boy-who-lived this much pain? By simply thinking the child who had survived Voldemort would have no trouble surviving life, and all it stresses, even though Harry had much greater stress, and had to handle more than any adult should? Was his pup's pain so great that it could literally kill him? And why, oh why, had no one ever noticed?

(Snape's POV)

Harry screamed again. Lupin stood up, smoothing Harry's raven hair back and attempting to gently wipe his forehead with a warm washcloth. Madam Pomfrey said there was nothing else that could be done, and all but Lupin and Snape went sadly about their work. Snape just stood there, silently watching over the boy, taking over when Lupin needed sleep.

He didn't know what to do. He felt bad, mainly because he had never believed Potter about his family. He had even mocked the boy in class once, saying that Potter must be getting soft, especially if he could defeat the Dark Lord as a baby, but couldn't even stand up to mere muggles as a teen. But he hadn't known... He had heard Potter say his guardians were "difficult to live with", but he had never mentioned being beaten like this.

_'Yet we've seen the scars. They're long white jagged marks, all over his body. The boy has endured so much pain, and never once has he complained about it. Sure, he has said the _

_Dursleys were difficult to live with, but that was always in reference to chores, and work they made him do. He has never complained about the pain, but taken it like a man.'_

_'But this... most full-grown men wouldn't even take this. Yet Potter stood on in silence, accepting the pain as just another part of his life. Tolerating it as best he could. No wonder the boy wanted to take his life! He had been silent for so long, afraid of what we would say if we knew... He just broke. Many adults would have broken long before this, yet he had still managed to apologize for disappointing Dumbledore!'_

_'After all that Dumbledore and the rest of the wizarding world have done to him, he still apologized for letting us down! Even before he allowed himself to break, he apologized first. As if he needed permission to break, to give in to the pain that must be running through his body and mind! I know I never liked Dumbledore's child champion, and I still don't... but... I... well; perhaps I've been a little too hard on him...'_ Snape thought with a grudging respect for the Golden Boy.

* * *

Well, that's it for this chapter! Hope ya liked! Tell me what you think. And I had to throw Snape's POV in there, it makes it a little more interesting and helps explain why Harry did what he did. Plus, it ties in later in the story. Review please! I _**live**_ for reviews! And thankee all who do review!


	4. Security Blanket

A/N: This is just a little on Draco's pov, ya know, what's happening to him while all this is going on...oh, and this chapter will have a twist, one that I hope gives my story a little extra flavor. once again, sorry for the wait.

"talking"

'_thinking'_

time change, character change

_**The War of Lemuria and the Prince of Avalon**_

_**Chp 4-Security Blanket**_

(Draco's POV)

"Draco." Cold eyes gazed at him, completely impassive and uncaring. Draco stared into that unflinching gaze, worried but refusing to show it. He schooled his features into a look of interested respect.

It had been a long summer. All they had done was train, practicing the spells he'd learned at school, and then new Dark spells that Lucius had taught him. And Draco had learned well. He had the scars and bruises to prove it. In the Malfoy household, failure was not acceptable.

Blaise had been over a lot that summer too, training with him and healing him afterwards. Blaise hated what Lucius did to his son, and whenever Draco was badly injured he dressed the boy in his silk pjs and lay him down, crawling into bed next to him and sharing body heat. Lucius knew of this, but he didn't care. Blaise's father was a friend of his, and so long as the boy helped his son improve and heal it didn't matter what he did.

'_So why does he have that look on his face? Why do I feel as if I should run the other way? Why do I feel as if my life is about to change?'_

"Yes father?" Came the reply, showing nothing of Draco's inner turmoil. _'What have I done now?' _he wondered with dread.

"It has come to my attention that you haven't been spending much time with Pansy." It wasn't a question. Pansy was Draco's betrothed; he was to marry her and inherit her fortune, continuing the Malfoy line. Draco grimaced.

"Our situation is... rather...delicate." He replied, making his face cold and unreadable as he had been taught. _'Shit! I'm not ready for this... he wasn't supposed to notice yet!'_

"Explain." Lucius said simply, sternly. His eyes bored into Draco, gray as slate and just as hard, cold, and unfeeling.

"Pansy is... rather...annoying, father. If I am to wed her, I must refrain from killing the girl." _'At least that part is true. I hate the stupid bitch!_'

Lucius stood quietly, silently telling, no, ordering, his son to continue.

"I decided that she and I need a break before I do so. Once I return to school, if you wish it of me, I will end our break," he began carefully. "But I do not want to spend any more time with her than I have to." he spoke softly, choosing his words carefully, as if his father was a bomb that could go off at any given time. Which was quite accurate actually.

"Well, I suppose I must give you some credit Draco. You planned ahead, and managed to overcome your emotions. And you've finally learned to be an excellent liar." He said that last bit with an evilly manic grin on his face as he approached his son.

Draco gulped silently but kept his fear off his face. '_shit'._

"I learned from the best." He said grimly, not daring to deny it as he planted his feet in the ground and refused to back down. When Lucius was only a few steps away he stopped.

"You have one more chance Draco. Why are you not with Pansy?" Lucius glared at his son. Draco just gaped. His father _**never**_ gave second chances_. 'It must be because I'm not running, and still not showing emotions'._

"I truly cannot stand her father. The prat is always trying to get in my bed, and she doesn't listen when I tell her I'm not in the mood and she refuses to allow me to leave for practice at night. Aside from that... I prefer men father." At this Draco made special care not to look away. If he looked down now his father would think he was ashamed, and he was superior to that. Shame meant weakness; therefore he could not back down.

'_I've taught him well...' _Lucius thought as he looked into his son's defiant eyes. Those dark, stormy grey eyes just dared him to say anything. Lucius was proud of his son, but dared not admit it.

"I see. Well, I am glad you decided to tell me the truth." Draco stared.

"You...you knew?" Despite his shock, Draco managed to keep his composure, unaware that as he did so his father swelled with pride.

"I caught Blaise in bed with you one night, kissing you as you slept. A few nights after I was walking past your rooms and heard the two of you. It pleases me to know that you are a true Malfoy, never one to let someone make you scream. And I do mean NEVER."

"Oh..."

"Oh, and Draco?"

"Yes father?"

"You may break up with Pansy. Though you WILL have an heir. I don't care if you have a surrogate mother, as long as she is pure-blood. I do not care who you date, nor who you sleep with. You are my son, and I will always love you." Lucius said as he turned, robes billowing, and left the room.

Draco collapsed in shock. _'Father...loves me? He hasn't been this kind since...since I was four...At least that's over with. I can't wait to tell Blaise! He's my best friend... And a damned good kisser too!' _Draco blushed as he stood and managed to make his way to his room.

* * *

(Lucius's POV)

'_I know love is a weakness... but even the dark lord does not look down on the loving of his son. I know Draco thought I was going to hurt him... hell, even I'm surprised at myself. But he handled himself so well, refusing to back down, even knowing what I could do to him. But how can I blame him? I was afraid this might happen. I've been expecting it. After all, my first real love was with... a male... and I would've done anything to get his love. But that stupid bastard didn't even give me a chance!' _Lucius turned around and used the Reductor curse to blow up the nearest random object, which happened to be the silver sliding glass doors leading on to a beautiful white balcony.

'_But my son...' _Lucius's eyes softened dramatically._ 'He's doing so well... and he's turning out a lot like me... and as hard as I train him, it is for his own good. I will forever worship the dark lord, for I am too caught up in the power to ever be free. But Draco... I can only hope he'll use his dark magic to avoid my lord, for however much I say otherwise, I do not want such an innocent creature to become tainted, as I was. I was young and in love... and I f I hadn't been in so much pain I could have been free. But I wanted revenge... and I still do!' _His eyes grew dark until they were a deep, navy blue, and all of a sudden the balcony itself exploded and fell down into the pool.

'_How could he have done that to me? I know I hadn't exactly been nice... but he never even allowed me to explain why. But I will get my revenge, and my dark lord will help. Until then, I need to protect Draco...' _he thought as he repaired the balcony and door.

'_My son doesn't __**love**__ Blaise, I can see that, but I can also see that__** Blaise **__loves__** him**__. That's why the child gets cold around me whenever I train Drake. But I must... if I do not push him past his limits, no one will. And then he won't stand a chance in refusing the dark mark. So I __**have**__ to do it... even if I make him hate me. He's my son... and I love him. My Draco...my fierce little dragon. He's learned his lessons well. But tonight I slipped. From now on I have to make it appear as though he imagined that I told him. Love is weakness, and I cannot afford to be weak. Neither can my son. Tomorrow we train harder than ever. I have a bad feeling that he's going to need it, and soon. I shall call Blaise's father and have him send the boy over to tend to Draco's wounds tomorrow. Besides, I'm sure they'll want a night to themselves...' _Lucius grinned mischievously as he called Mr. Zambini.

"Yes, send Blaise over. I'm going to train Draco tomorrow and he's going to need to recuperate. Thank you." Lucius hung up the phone and 15 minutes later led Blaise to Draco's room.

* * *

(Blaise's POV)

"Blaise? What are you doing here?"

"Your father called me over."

"So I'm training tomorrow then... I knew it was too good to be true."

"What?" Blaise asked in concern at the look of sadness in Draco's eyes. He never allowed anyone to see his emotions. Not even him.

"My father knows, Blaise. He knows that I'm gay, and that we are currently sleeping together." _'sleeping together, not dating. I only wish...'_ he sighed wistfully and sat down next to Draco.

"What's so bad about that? He invited me over, so he can't be mad..."

"No. He accepted it. And he said no matter who I'm with..." Draco faltered and looked down.

Blaise put his hand under Draco's chin and gently lifted his head.

"No matter who you're with...?" he prompted, not releasing Draco's delicate face.

"He'll always love me." Blaise stared in shock.

"Well...that's...unexpected."_ 'Fuck! Lucius is planning to make up for the remark tomorrow! That's why he called! And Draco won't be able to handle it! I know he hides his exhaustion, but I see it in his eyes, where no one else dares to look. I see the sadness, the emptiness. I see the cold. Yet no matter how hard I try to warm his icy heart, I'll never be more than a friend to him. ...v.v..._'

"Blaise? Earth to Blaise? I'm talking to you!" Draco snapped. "Seriously, you're starting to remind me of Crabbe and Goyle."

"Huh? Sorry Drake, I'm just worried about tomorrow."

"Don't be. I'll be fine. Let's just get some sleep, okay?"

"Alright." He said as he lay down next to his lover, wishing that Draco shared his love. Soon Blaise heard deep, even breathing, and he gently kissed Draco's lips as he slept.

"Goodnight, my love. I will do all I can to help you tomorrow... but you have to face him alone. I'm sorry..." He whispered as a single tear slid down his cheek and landed on Draco's lips. Blaise looked at the silver haired boy lovingly, before kissing away the tear and drifting off to sleep.

* * *

(Draco's POV)

'_He thought I was asleep. I'm not. I've learned many things from living with my father. And I'm going to pay for hearing his comment. But something bad is going to happen... much worse than just being pushed too hard. But I'm better than that! I don't have stupid Gryffindor instincts! Still... I feel a little better knowing Blaise is here. He's my best friend... the only person I could ever talk to. But friends make you weak. I know that I'm hurting him... which is why things will change when we go back to school. He's not my boyfriend... he's my best friend. And he knows it. He deserves to find love, and as his friend I don't want to stop him. But I cannot afford that weakness any longer. After today I will cease to be Blaise's friend. I need no one! I can face my father on my own; I don't __**want**__ him to help. I don't want him to love me. He helps bring me back to the warmth when I'm cold, but I'm always still chilly, and he doesn't bring back the light. He doesn't even know about the darkness. How I'm blind from minutes, to hours, after a training session. How I'm alone in the dark. He brings back some of the warmth, but none of the light. Mother has explained much to me, and I know that Blaise isn't my heart, but rather my security blanket. And I'm too old for such a thing. I'm a Malfoy, and I'm 16. I don't need a security blanket anymore; I can face my life alone. And I'll have to tell him that tomorrow... before it's too late.' _Draco thought as he drifted off to sleep at last.

* * *

Like? I know it was a little weird, but it is essential to the plot. review review review. what do you guys think? tell me? -runs and hides behind a rock-

Lunadia


	5. The Soul of a Malfoy

A.N: OMG, I am sooooooooooo sorry for the wait. Life has kicked me in the teeth lately, so please forgive me. I'm moving to Florida in may, and my girlfriend left for there a week ago, so I'll be alone for 5 months through Valentine's day, my 21st birthday (march 5th), and our 5 year anniversary (march 21st), so I've been a bit preoccupied with life. But I've gotten rough drafts written for the next three chapters, so I hope to have at least one out within the month. Or sooner. Forgive me? Please enjoy!

"talking"

'_thinking'_

time change, character change

observations

_**The War of Lemuria and the Prince of Avalon**_

_**Chp 5-The Soul of a Malfoy**_

(??'s POV)

Moonlight streamed through the large window to the left of the door, making the deep emerald walls glow with an inner light. The silver paint on the edges of the walls only enhanced the 'emerald cloud wrapped in silver lining' appearance. The silver curtains billowed slightly in a soft breeze, and I looked on.

Looking in from the window, the far left revealed a silver dresser, with green knobs and lining on each drawer. On top of the lovely dresser was a single photograph depicting a 5 year-old Draco wrapped in his father's arms, while his mother stood behind them with the vibrant smile of a young and beautiful angel. Also resting on the dresser top was a black vase, containing a single silver rose.

Next to the dresser was a desk. It was made of dark, glossy, cherry wood; and was nicely polished. Tucked neatly into the space was an emerald swivel chair, and upon the surface was a neat stack of black paper, with notes written in silver ink. Also on the surface of the desk rested a black notebook with a silver lock. It had a silver dragon on the cover, drawn by none other than Draco himself.

On the right side of the room stood a large black bookshelf with silver lining. It was full of thick, dark volumes, each one retaining to the dark arts. The bookshelf went from floor to ceiling, and seemed as if it were two shelves fused together, one on the end of each wall that formed the corner. It was a good design, and it provided extra space for the young master to pace the floor if he so wished it.

A little more to the right was a thick glass case, resting on an emerald stand that was covered by a silver cloth. Inside the case rested a silver scabbard, and next to that an elegant black sword. The katana had a silver handle, and red fingerprints reflected off it harshly. Draco was sometimes forced to train with the dark sword, but even Lucius did not fully comprehend its powers. When the katana was lifted, it drew its strength from the user; and with every drop of its opponent's blood that was spilled, the katana stole a drop from its carrier's fingers. Yet every time the katana's master lost a drop of blood to the enemy, it stole twice as much the next time it made contact with said enemy. And if the dark sword's master were to lose, his killer would also die, and the katana would slowly, painfully, absorb the killer's soul. Thus the katana gained much strength and power, and wielded many dark spells, for there were spells that could be combined with physical attacks, if you only knew how to do it. And Lucius had made sure his son knew how. The searing red fingerprints were of the boy's own blood, and few times had Draco succeeded in dealing his father a blow. But when he had, Lucius had lowered his own sword and left the room, allowing Draco silent compensation for the small victory.

Despite the interesting history of the sword, it wasn't that which drew my attention. I was more interested in the elegant, King sized bed that occupied the wall opposite the door. It was covered in a thick, velvet, emerald comforter. On the comforter lay two boys, the brunette sleeping soundly, while the silver haired boy tossed and turned, mumbling in his sleep. The bed was slightly hidden from view, as it was covered by a silver silk canopy. The carpet was a black deeper than the darkest of moonless nights.

Yet on this night, as the moon shone in, I saw an eerie glow that surrounded everything, and made the room seem alive and full of boiling emotions. The sword seethed anger and rage, and the walls wailed in unadulterated sadness. The bookshelf sighed in black despair, and the dresser silently screamed in eternal pain. The photograph held on protectively to its tentative joy and laughter, while the 5 year-old resonated innocence and a fierce passion for life. The silver rose sang of love unrequited, and pain so unbearable that it was buried deep within the subconscious mind. The locked notebook told that the love had as of yet to find a target, or else that perhaps the target was unbeknownst to the young master, buried as deep as the pain. The silver notes spoke of long nights spent studying, and a deep knowledge and inner wisdom that should not belong to any 16 year-old.

The desk itself shared memories of frustration, and angry tears that refused to fall. Of fists pounding into its wooden surface, and of blood dripping down from nails digging into pale palms. As if on cue, the silver dragon Draco had drawn seemed to come to life, and it breathed emerald and black laced flames at me, telling of a remarkable inner strength. The swivel chair recalled many times its master had sat upon it, bandaging badly wounded hands and still bleeding cuts on his arms and face. It recalled just as frequently the brunette sitting in it, holding the other boy in his lap as he bandaged Draco, who was too weak to protest.

The bookshelf revealed stories of pacing in fear of what was to come as the boy frantically searched through his books for a way to defend against his father. It told of fear so thick the boy threw up, and of hatred so strong that many books had burned in a moment of anger that the boy never forgot. It told of self-loathing and many snide remarks, and of the brunette, raising his hand and striking the young master, forcing him back to his senses. The very curtains that surround me show me times of desperation, loneliness, and an aching heart that screams so loud you must me deaf not to hear it. I watched as the spectacle of the silver haired boy leaned on the window, silver curtains billowing and hiding his face from anyone else. But not me. I saw.

His eyes were desperate, yet fierce. He was lonely, and Blaise did not do much to ease the pain. He warmed the boy, I saw that now, but he did not bring light. The boy was left alone, in the dark. The young master's heart screamed to make it all stop, to end it now, to run away forever, and never look back. His eyes were filled with such longing, such a deep ache for freedom. Yet he stood strong, refusing to run away from his problems. He would never back down, even if it killed him.

Yet he was cold, freezing in the grip of eternal winter, and no one even noticed. But I do. I see everything. The spectacle disappeared, and the boy lying in the bed moved closer to Blaise, whimpering in fear. I see what even he does not; there is a thin, invisible layer of ice on his feet, and chest. The boy needs warmth, and as I watch it, the bed also relinquishes its secrets.

On a night similar to this, the young master was just as cold, and he was alone. He needed warmth, and then Blaise appeared. He took the ice prince in his arms, and kissed him fiercely, passionately. The other boy responded, clutching at Blaise's neck and deepening the kiss. He needed warmth, and his friend's mouth and body where surrounded by it. He held the kiss until neither boy could breathe, and when they pulled away the ice prince allowed the other boy to pull him close, warming him just a little. But when the brunette lifted his face, and planted a warmer, softer, kiss on his lips, the ice seemed to crack a little, and the young master was filled with burning desire and an ache to be closer.

As Blaise pulled him onto the bed and removed their cloths, the ice prince felt a slow warmth crawling through his stomach, and it was then that he understood that he was gay. But as Blaise pulled him close, and their bodies touched in the most intimate of ways, the ice began to melt. And so the boy kissed Blaise, and wrapped his legs around the other boy's waist, pulling himself on top of Blaise. Blaise looked a little sad, yet acceptance was written in his eyes and in Draco's as well. They both knew that the other boy did not love Blaise, but they also knew that the young master needed him. And so Blaise allowed himself to be taken, losing his virginity to the one he loved. And after Draco pulled out, he did the most unexpected thing. He curled up to Blaise, laying his head on the other boy's chest. He allowed Blaise to wrap his arms around him, and when he began to fall asleep he still did not move. When he began to have a nightmare, Blaise gently touched his arm, and the boy calmed.

All this the bed showed me, yet it shared the morning too. Never did the boys speak of what happened, for both knew it would end when school began. Instead they chose to continue their strong friendship, and at night Draco allowed Blaise to comfort him.

I see the ice prince turn again, and even as I watch another layer of ice coats his pale skin. He always hides his emotions, but not from me. Never from me. For I see everything, and yet he does not know I am here, watching him as he sleeps. His emotions are so strong, that his very room absorbs them, pulling in the feelings and memories of the past. His room is a reflection of his very soul, and I am glad for the ability to hear and see it all.

I jump back from the window, and onto the balcony of Lucius Malfoy. His room is red; the walls as deep scarlet as fresh blood, and carpet the blackish red of dark blood, borne from evil hearts. I care not for this room. Nor for the sleeping man who occupies it. He is a death eater, and I shall kill him. Yet as I enter the room, I stop. There is something different here, from last time. It smells different. I glance around and notice the faded silver of recently fallen teardrops on the black hardwood desk.

They glow in the darkness, to my sensitive eyes. That's when I recognize the smell. It's the same as the silver rose. This man loves his son! He is radiating grief, guilt, remorse. I sense wave after wave of bitterness and self-loathing roll off the walls. Yet the bed in which the silver haired man is lying speaks of protectiveness, and pain. And the carpet tells tales of a dangerous, forbidden desire.

I flee the room immediately, now is not the time. Perhaps I shall return later, perhaps there is something more to this death eater than I originally thought. I run into the night, bounding over the fence, and going past so fast the security spells do not sense even the slightest disturbance.

_**'I may be leaving now, but I will return young master, prince of ice. And when I do, you'd better be ready.'**_

_**

* * *

**_

How was that? Wondering who the mysterious stranger is? Let me know any and all thoughts you have, good or bad. Tell me who you think the mystery person is, and who you want it to be. please please please review? I desperately need feedback. I am open to suggestions, as well as challenges if anyone wants a particular type of story. Loves ya all!

Lunadia


	6. Dreams Tell All

A.N: So, I decided to make up for the long wait by giving you **two** chapters!!! Hope ya like ^_~

"talking"

'_thinking'_

time change, character change

observations

_**The War of Lemuria and the Prince of Avalon**_

**Chp 6-Dreams Tell All**

(Vernon's POV!?)

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Did you do it?" A voice hissed in black dreams full of roaring icy winds.

"I...I di..did..." The thick man stuttered, clutching his arms to his chest in an effort to keep warm.

"You made sssssure the glasssss cut him all over?" The voice asked again.

"Yes... The boy is covered with cuts as you asked. Please... don't hurt me!..." The man cried out in terror.

"Hurt you?" A dark figure emerged in the blackness, only visible because it had a slight red glow to it, and it's snake like eyes shone in the darkness. The figure tilted its head in question.

"I will reward you. You have done the work of Lord Voldemort, even as a muggle. I will allow you to live..." the voice drawled. "Crucio!"

o00o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Vernon jerked in his sleep, screaming as he awoke shivering in his bed.

_'What a horrible nightmare...'_ He got out of bed only to have his legs crumple beneath him like so much useless jelly. _'Why do I feel so weak? And hurt? It was only a dream... I bet it's that bloody boy's fault! Him and that.. that... __**MAN**__!!...But I did as the dream wanted...it was a good idea really, it's not like I believe in dream voices... it was just a good way to torture the disrespectful snot... It's not like there was anything tied to the glass... after all... it was only a dream...' _Vernon thought as he made his way to the bathroom.

(Draco's POV)

0o0o0o0oo0o0

The moon shone through the billowing curtains, and he sensed a presence there. But the presence left, a single whispered line carried to him on the breeze.

**'I may be leaving now, but I will return young master, prince of ice. And when I do, you'd better be ready.'**

The window closed, and darkness unlike any other seeped into the room. There was a shadow hidden among shadows and it was visible, if only because it was darker than the shadows in which it hid. The shadow stepped forth, and spoke in a low hiss.

"I will arrive ssssoon. You had better be ready by then child, or you will not sssurvive thissss encounter!" It hissed, fading away through the same window as the other presence.

o0o0o0o0oo0o0

Draco sat up in bed with a jolt, remembering Voldemort's voice. The sunrise was about three hours off, so he had time to prepare a little. If you had a dream of the Dark Lord, it was usually true. Draco threw some cloths and boots on, and was about to race downstairs for some energy potions when his bedroom door opened, ever so slowly.

"Draco? What are you doing up?"

"Father? Oh...I am preparing."

"This early? We won't start training until noon..." Lucius said, eying Draco wearily.

"I know. But the Dark Lord will be here at sunrise."

"What do you mean? I did not ask for his help in training you." He looked genuinely curious.

"I had a dream. He entered my room and told me to be ready, or I might not survive this encounter. And I intend to."

"Then I must prepare the house! You should feel honored, my son."

"Honored? Father, he's here to punish me. Not reward me. Though I am not sure what I have done to offend him..."

"Perhaps you had thoughts of being disloyal?" Lucius's eyes hardened as he glared at his one and only son.

"No. But someone else was here before him... Someone that was so light they seemed made of crystal. And they called me prince of Ice... But when they left the Dark Lord arrived. I think perhaps the other angered him."

"That is a possibility...Prince of Ice you say? Well, I haven't heard that term in years. I believe it refers to the ruler of the ice elementals, who are among the Forgotten Ones. I can't be sure though, because all records of them were lost millennia ago. That's why we call them the Forgotten Ones. There are many different races among them, and very few with their blood have surfaced over the last few centuries. My Lord may be displeased at that. For then even he would not have much knowledge of your abilities, if you are of the ice elementals, which is possible my son, then he could not read your emotions, and therefore would have no knowledge of your actions. It is best to be careful, and do not bury your emotions too deep when he is near. He is an empath, he reads into others emotions easily. And if he could not read into yours... he would not trust you." Lucius warned.

"Why would he not trust me? I am a Malfoy after all. And wouldn't that just give me a power in which to aid him, and fool Dumbledore?"

"Yes, but perhaps you could aid Dumbledore and betray him. He would be unable to know if your hatred was truly directed at the old man."

"So he is coming to test me then, to see if I truly am this 'Prince of Ice' and to see if I am a danger to him." It was not a question.

"I shall leave you to prepare Draco. Remember what I said yesterday. I meant it. And make sure that Blaise leaves. You do not want to endanger him as well."

"Yes father." Draco replied as Lucius left the room.

Draco walked over to his sleeping companion, who had brought him little warmth last night. _'I'm sorry Blaise...even if I would never say it out loud. Sorry that I could not love you back. But if what father says is true, there is nothing that can be done. Stay safe.'_

He shook the other boy, face portraying none of the thoughts that ran through his head.

"Blaise! Wake up you idiot!"

"Huh? What is it Drake?"

"Don't call me that! And you have to leave, now. And don't come back." Draco replied, already packing Blaise's things.

"Why!?" He asked, fully awake now.

"The Dark Lord is coming. I just found out that I am something I should not be, and he doesn't like it. You have to go before he gets here."

"But I'll help you!" Blaise cried out.

"Not this time Blaise. We both knew it would end, and now it will. You're my friend. The only one I have. And if you do not go, I will hex you and send you off on your broom!"

"Yes Draco." He whispered, as he went to the window. He turned back one last time, with tears in his eyes.

"Goodbye..." He allowed the wind to carry his whisper to Draco's ears as he flew away, and Draco scrambled to get ready.

_**-(3 hrs later)-**_

Draco stood in the manor's large living room, wand at his side and wearing black robes with silver lacing. He would not attack the Dark Lord, heavens no. But he would do as he was told and be ready to defend himself for his life. Then the Dark Lord entered.

"Luciusss." He nodded at the presence of his bowing death eater.

Then he continued on, and walked right up to Draco, who was now also on his knees.

'_I HATE this! I'm reduced to a sniveling dog! But I mustn't show that...I must be pleased. I am grateful that I'm not yet dead... I will focus on that."_

"Sssstand." Draco stood.

"Who wasss the man in your room lassst night?"

"I do not know my lord. I had thought it a mere dream." Draco said with his head down. At which point icy fingers gripped his chin and lifted his face. The Dark Lord pointed his wand at Draco.

"Crucio!" Draco fell to the floor, writhing, but refusing to scream. When he let up the curse Draco crawled to his knees, panting for breath and trying to ignore the agony that still resided in his aching body.

"It wasss no more a dream than the warning I sssent you. Why did he call you the prinsss of icesss?"

"I do not know my Lord. I have been training to hide my emotions from my enemies as a proper Malfoy would. Perhaps it has something to do with that?"

"Perhapssss... Look in my eyesss child!" he demanded. And Draco obeyed, rising to his feet shakily and hoping to hide his hatred, but allowing some of his fear to shine through.

"You are afraid."

"You wield a great power my Lord, and I do not wish to displease you." He said, still looking into the eyes of the devil. But Draco did not know that by now, most had backed down, and been punished for looking away without permission.

"Why do you not look away?" He hissed dangerously.

"I was not granted permission my Lord." Draco paled, his knees visibly shaking at the thought of another Cruciatius curse.

"And you are truly free of guilt then. You do not know. You would be unable to look me in the eye for so long if you were lying. Even some of my most trusted death eaters have some small form of guilt that will not allow them to look me in the eyes for too long. You may look away."

"Yes sir." Draco replied, slowly lowering his eyes to his feet.

"I will be glad to mark you on your eighteenth birthday young Draco. Be proud." And with that the Dark Lord left the Manor.

Draco collapsed to his knees, then fell flat on his stomach as all the energy he'd had left him.

"Draco!" Lucius allowed his wife to run to their son, pulling him into her lap and giving him a potion Severus had developed to fight the affects of the dark curse. After that the boy was taken to bed where he could rest and heal.

(Harry's Pov)

o0o0o0oo00o

He was running through the grass, silently following a strange creature. He followed it to Draco's room, not seeing inside, or even recognizing where he was. All he saw was the crystal man before him. And the man was so concentrated that he didn't even notice Harry's presence. Yet after he left, Harry stayed, watching as Voldemort approached. He stayed, and three hours later heard the screams of someone from below. HE was still unable to tell where he was, or even _who_ he was. All he knew was that Voldemort was torturing someone, and it sent a searing pain through his forehead. He followed Voldemort, who was also unaware of his presence. Then he slipped off, searching for what he did not know. He came across the path of a big black dog, and for some reason his heart clenched in pain. Yet he did not know why. The dog looked at him sadly, and continued on its way. Harry did the same.

'_What's going on? I should not be here... I should be somewhere else. I know it. Who am I? Where am I? Will someone please, help me!'_ He was getting desperate enough to cry now, but then he heard a soothing voice.

'_There there Harry dear, calm down my sweet.'_

'_Harry?'_ He tilted his head a little at the voice in his mind.

'_It is your name. You are Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world.'_

'_Who are you?'_

'_Me? I am Lily Potter, your mother.'_

'_Why can't I see you? Where am I?'_

'_You cannot see me because I am dead. I am above you my son. But you will not see me yet. And you are here. In __**Cymepk**__, the land of twilight; between day and night, light and dark, good and evil, life and death.__ Cymepk is primarily ruled by the powers of the moon.'_

'_Why am I here? Am I not alive?'_

'_Not quite. Yet you aren't dead either. Think Harry, do you remember what happened?'_

He thought hard, and suddenly images of Vernon's face, and his bleeding wrists entered his mind. He gasped.

'_I do! I was dying, and so decided to die by my own hand, rather than his!'_

'_Oh Harry! Would that it were true! But you were going to anyway...weren't you.'_

'_I'm sorry mum. I didn't want to hurt anyone... but I can't do it! I cannot do it all alone!'_ He cried out.

'_My son, my darling boy! You are not alone! Your father and I watch over you always, as does Sirius. Like you, he is caught between life and death.'_ She said sadly.

'_Sirius! I saw him! I must go find him!'_

'_NO! Harry, you must find your way back. You are not meant to be here. If you are here, you must find your way back on your own. But do not give up. I love you, and I have faith in you my son.'_

'_What about the others that I saw? Voldemort, and the strange man?'_

'_Voldemort is also stuck here. While he is in his body, a part of his soul will always reflect his actions here, for he has died many times over. He will never be free of this place. But __**you**__ can. And the other man is of the race of elementals. His people are always here too, but they are Gods or Goddesses that have willingly lowered themselves to Earth, or Humans that have risen high enough to be granted the position of guardian to Cymepk's lunar powers.'_

'_Is that why he was white and silver?'_

'_Yes, but there is no time. You MUST go back now. Voldemort comes here when he rests at night, and if he sees you, you will never go back!'_

'_I __**don't want**__ to go back.'_

Just then a silver stag bound up, and changed into James Potter.

"Harry," He sighed, "Your mother is right. You cannot stay here. There are those that will miss you, you know."

"Like who?"

"Remus, Ron, Hermione. Unlike Dumbledore, they do not care if you save them or not. If you fail to destroy Voldemort, they will remain by your side, as your mother and I will always watch over you. And I know your secret Harry, I am proud of you."

Harry smiled up at his glowing father.

"I learned from you. All I did was watch, over and over in my mind. And I taught myself. I had to get away from the Dursleys sometimes."

James just laughed.

"I remember when I was your age..."

'_James! He must go! Voldemort is coming!'_

"I'm not going! I'd rather stay here with you! I don't **want** to go back!"

'_You must!'_ Lily screeched in terror now. Just then a dark shadow came, and James Potter disappeared.

Harry felt a huge pain in his scar, bigger than ever before. And with that he saw a dove and it fluttered its wings at him, startling him. He screamed in anger and rage as he saw himself falling through the dark clouds, trying to catch hold of Voldemort as he fell.

The Dark Lord looked surprised at this action, and caught the falling boy, yanking him to his feet.

"Harry Potter? Why was I not aware that you were here?" He asked, wondering which death eater he was to slowly torture. Only he had the right to Potter's life.

"I came here of my own free will." He looked defiantly into Voldemort's gaze.

"I know you've been torturing someone today. I watched. But now you have me. So you have two options." Harry said, his body surrounded by a fierce silver glow.

Voldemort glowed and lifted the boy, ignoring the horrified cries of his dead parents.

"Do not presume to tell me what to do. I will kill you now!"

Harry just tilted his head back, revealing his throat while still keeping eye contact with Voldemort.

"Your first option," He began, eyes flashing furiously ice green, in a way that resembled Voldemort's own, and silver flaring into a light so bright, it hurt the dark one's eyes.

"Is to kill me. The second is to keep me trapped here. Choose now, or I will choose for you."

It was then that Voldemort realized his captive was not afraid of death. He laughed madly.

"Harry Potter! You dare to defy me? I will do neither as of yet, but your punishment is to return to life!" He cackled madly as he hurled the boy down into his aching body.

* * *

So what'd you guys think? I wanted to make this longer, but this seemed like the perfect place to end it. Please review and let me know what you think?


	7. The Forgotten Ones

A/N: I know this is pretty boring, but it's rather necessary to the plot and I think it explains at least a bit. Everything will be clear eventually, so bare with me please?

"Talking"

'_Thinking'_

Time change, character change

Observations

o0o0o0Dream sequence 0o0o0o0

_**The War of Lemuria and the Prince of Avalon**_

_**Chap. 7-The Forgotten Ones**_

"Ninavah?"

"Yes brother?"

"I'm worried."

The beautiful young woman paused, and her black hair shimmered in the moonlight as she turned to face him.

"Worried?"

"Yes." He sat on the ledge of their balcony, 50 feet above the ground, waiting for her response. Ninavah's eyes sparkled, and she spoke softly.

"What has you worried, my brother? It's not like you."

"It's Draconius."

She gasped and quickly strode to his side, her nimble feet not making a sound on the hardwood floor.

"Why?" Her voice whispered across the balcony like a light breeze on a summer night.

"I believe he is breaking." He paused, aware of his sister's intense gaze, and lightly leapt of the edge and onto the floor. He resumed speaking as he began to pace.

"The ice around him thickens, and I fear it shall consume him before his birthday. The ice will kill him long before he learns that he can control it, and if it doesn't I'm sure that Voldemort will."

"The poor childe…"

"There's more Nin. I think…Oh I dread to think it. But…I was in the room of Lucius this night as well."

"That vile creature?!" The air around the dark-haired beauty warmed, and a breeze blew in from nowhere.

"Be calm, sister. I think the Verros may be salvageable."

"Tchh. That man!? Why would you think such a thing?" she spat.

"Be calm." He glared in her direction, and even as he watched the breeze died down to nothing and the air became cool once again.

"I apologize, my brother. But why would he be worth it?"

"He's regretful. He's in pain. His sanity seems to be returning. He's allowed himself to feel love for his son."

Ninavah was quick, and she latched on to the last part.

"He loves Draco? It's been years since he's allowed himself that emotion…Is this what you dread to think?"

"I couldn't stay long, I felt Voldemort approaching. I didn't have time to delve further into his room. I fear that his Verros side may be attempting to transfer it's mating instincts to his son. I pray that I'm wrong."

"As do I, brother."

"We should contact Severus. I know he is marked by Voldemort now, but he may yet be on our side."

"What of Dumbledore? Isn't Sev as good as marked by him as well?"

"I don't think the old fool is in Sev's good graces right now. But he is Lucius' mate, and Lucius only began to go insane when Voldemort and Narcissa kept them apart. I know Severus, and I know that he really does love Lucius, and especially Draco. If he only knew…but perhaps we can tell him sometime soon, or perhaps he already suspects. Either way, if we can find some sanity in Lucius, then we may be able to convince Sev that he's worth saving. For all their sakes."

"Perhaps. I will speak with our Lost One. Maybe we are not truly forgotten, though I shan't raise my hopes."

"The Forgotten Ones. The name suits us. My question is which race will they take on? Draco is an Ice Prince through inheritance and magical power in his own right, but He also carries the Verros blood of the Malfoy line, and it is strong in him. Maybe strong enough to dominate over the elemental blood. And what of Harry?"

"I have yet to see him. I believe that someone else got there first, but we shall see. I'll watch him this week, and I will make my decision then."

"Yes, sister. I can only hope that it's not too late…"

"The Prince of Ice and the Prince of Avalon…this should be interesting."

"Indeed. I wonder what fate is up to now?"

"Don't question her, brother; she may decide to show you."

Ninavah laughed, a clear happy sound, like hundreds of tinkling little bells, and the stars seemed that much brighter.

"Maybe. It's just…I feel something brewing. Don't you?"

"I do. But all we can do is guide the Lost Ones. We can teach them, train them, help them, and give them advice. But their decisions are their own. If Harry takes after Lily we may have hope. I f he takes after his father we may fear. But if he takes after both, we will have history, whether good or bad is unseen."

"Indeed. And Draconius, little Draco, if he inherits the ice, it may consume his heart. I'm hoping his Verros side will warm it, so that he'll have the compassion of a good Prince, yet the ability to be as cold and hard as his enemies. I just hope that harry isn't one of them. There are few enough of us left, and they can't afford to kill each other."

"I know. But Draco is already aware of his mate, though not enough for anyone to figure out whom it is. I'm hoping his awareness will help him through this, as long as no one interferes."

"That's what worries me. Come Ninavah, let us go to sleep. We can ponder this further tomorrow."

"Yes, brother. Lemuria wakes for no one after all." She smirked.

"The truth. We shall rise with the land, as always."

"Goodnight, brother."

"Goodnight, Nin."

Ninavah smiled softly as her brother closed his door, and as she looked out over the forest, she sighed and whispered a little prayer, carried throughout Lemuria on a small midnight breeze.

"Be safe, my Lost Ones."

* * *

A/N: Read and review loves! I live for reviews ^_~ Also, the next chapter is almost done being typed up, so I should have it out in the next week!!! Yay for finally getting this story going again!!


	8. Of Chains, Guardians, Fire and Ice

Warning: This is YAOI. This means boy/boy action. If you don't like, don't read. So if I get flames on how gross I am, I'll ignore it, cuz if you didn't like you wouldn't read, and if you didn't read you wouldn't flame. So a flame means you read despite my warning, so you're an idiot for not taking me seriously. _**There is a small make-out scene in this chapter, of the incestful nature**_ (though there's a reason for it and it won't be quite the way it sounds, promise!)

"Talking"

'_Thinking'_

(Time change, character change)

Observations

o0o0o0Dream sequence 0o0o0o0

_**The War of Lemuria and the Prince of Avalon**_

_**Chap. 7- Of Chains and Guardians and Fire and Ice**_

_**(Snape's POV)**_

Snape was sitting in a chair beside the Golden Boy's bed, taking Lupin's place for the night. The werewolf was a wreck; it had been two days since the nightmare had started. The boy was almost constantly moaning, though to everyone's surprise he barely moved at all. He'd start to turn his head, but suddenly he'd stop, as if he couldn't. No one knew of what he dreamed, though not for lack of trying. Snape had brewed several potions to try and see into Potter's dreams, but all he saw was silver fog, everywhere. Earlier that night he had tried Legilimency to reach Potter, and he had seen only one thing, a sad looking big black dog. He was shocked back into his body, and now, 10 minutes later, he was watching the child as he dreamt. His slight respect for Potter had grown a little, as he realized the boy had seen his Godfather, and there were no tears on his face.

But then Potter suddenly woke up, his open eyes an icy emerald green, furious enough to rival those of the Dark Lord.

"I'll kill him. I'll fucking kill that goddamned Bastard!" Harry growled furiously.

'_What the hell! Potter never swears! I've never seen him look so, so like Voldemort. Perhaps he has more power than he lets on...' _Snape calculated before he spoke.

"Language, Mr. Potter." He snapped at the boy.

"Snape. What are you doing here?" He spat venomously, taking in his surroundings.

"I'd like to ask you the same." _'Calm. Must be calm. Must not kill the Potter-brat. That would be bad, very bad indeed…'_

"Well, I see Hedwig by the window, so I'm assuming she brought the letters. In which case, you know exactly why I am here. Why couldn't you have just let me die? Grrrrr…I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL HIM IN THE MOST PAINFUL POSSIBLE WAY, AND HE'LL WISH HE HAD NEVER MESSED WITH HARRY JAMES POTTER!"

Snape looked startled at the outburst as the normally forgiving boy screeched his revenge loud enough for Dumbledore and Minerva to come running.

"You know you can't Potter. There are laws against killing Muggles." Snape drawled.

"I meant Voldemort you fool!"

Snape tried hard not to look like a fish out of water, but it wasn't working very well. Dumbledore walked in just then.

"Well, that's good to hear Harry." He smiled cheerfully. "And I'm glad you are awake."

"No." He said quietly. "It's not."

That shut everyone up. Even Dumbledore looked slightly surprised.

"I'm not killing him for you. I'm doing it for me. For my own pleasure, and trust me, I _will _enjoy it." He said bitterly.

"What, the-boy-who-lived is mad about his Godfather's death? Really Potter, I didn't think the dog in your dream would affect you so." Snape said scathingly.

"It wasn't a dream." He whispered softly.

"My dear boy, you've been out for two whole days, if not a dream, then what was it?" Dumbledore asked with that goddamn annoying twinkle in his eyes.

"I was in the Cymepk."

Soft gasps were heard throughout the room, and finally McGonagall spoke.

"The Realm between Life and Death? However did you get back?"

'_...! No wonder his dreams were full of silver. And that explains Black. He went through the cloak so he didn't die, but he is no longer alive either.' _

Snape looked up from his thoughts, just as interested in the answer. Even Dumbledore looked curious.

"Voldemort wouldn't let me die." The boy spoke with such acidic hatred, you could almost taste it, and a slight power surged through the room. Potter was losing control.

"Explain!" Snape snapped in his infamous, 'You are inferior and had better obey' voice.

"I saw my mum and dad. They told me I had to come back and I tried to stay. Then a dove appeared and startled me into falling, but Voldemort caught me as I grabbed at his robes. He told me that since I wanted to die, he would punish me by forcing me to live. Then he threw me and I came to." Harry said in a monotone, his face showing no emotion in a mask that any Slytherin would have been jealous of. But then Snape realized that Potter hadn't moved, not so much as turned his head.

"Potter, why haven't you moved?" He drawled.

"I can't." The boy suddenly whispered, his eyes returning to their normal emerald color, his face paling.

"What do you mean?" McGonagall asked in concern.

"I'm tied up... aren't I? I feel as if I have chains all over my body, I can't even tilt my head without cutting off my airway." He looked around confused.

Just then Dumbledore did a very complex revealing spell, and indeed, Potter was covered in tight chains, each with a sharp point driving into his skin. There were more gasps and Albus looked weary for the first time in ages.

"Potter, what happened?" Snape asked neutrally.

"It was Voldemort. He told uncle Vernon to whip me with special glass that was later found in the front yard. He must have made it so the chains would be active once I was brought here."

"I think you are quite right my dear boy! But we'll just have to get rid of them. You cannot expect to heal like that!" And with that Dumbledore started muttering removal charms and spells with the help of Snape and McGonagall. But try as they might, all they did was loosen the bindings.

"STOP!" Potter cried out again.

"The chains are loose, but I know for a fact you won't be able to lift them. And it hurts, so please, stop."

"How can you know that, Potter?" Snape snapped.

"I just do. I can sense it. But they are loose enough. I can move, it's just that I now have weights attached to my arms and legs. Please, do not make a big deal out of it. I will learn to live with these chains, until I figure out how to throw them off. But if you keep trying, it's going to kill me. I think... I think that somehow these chains are a part of me."

Everyone mulled this over for a few minutes, before Dumbledore finally nodded.

_**(Harry's POV)**_

The chains felt as if they were part of my skin, every time someone touched them, I could feel it. And when they tried to rip them off, it felt as if someone was trying to rip my limbs from my body. The pain was near unbearable. So when Dumbledore nodded, I simply sat up. Even Snape looked a tad surprised. I looked out the window and stared at the landscape outside. It was nearing September and frost already covered the trees. Someone was out there. I could feel it. Yet they did not feel threatening, merely curious.

I stared until I sensed the others leave. Only then did I allow myself to collapse back onto the pillows.

"How did you know of Cymepk, Potter?"

'_gah! I didn't know he was still here…how'd he __**do**__ that?'_

"Why should I tell you? Just because you're a teacher doesn't mean you own me. Let's get this straight right now, shall we? You've hated me since I first came here. And I learned to hate you too. School hasn't started yet, so I don't have to take shit from you. You've done nothing but make my life hell since first year. Just because you found me and saved me you think I owe you something. An explanation at least. I owe you _nothing_. Get it? I didn't _want_ to be saved. So, if anything, **you** owe **me**. Now get the fuck out of my area, I need my rest." Harry said in carefully controlled icy tones.

Snape, to his credit, merely glared at the boy before him, wondering what the hell he was doing in Gryffindor.

"You will watch your tone with me, boy. Or I will make sure you regret it."

"Oh really? How so? Are you gonna be like Vernon and try to beat it out of me? Or are you going to tell the old man his Golden Boy needs to watch his mouth? Hmm Sev? Or will you give me detention as soon as school starts? I know you just _love_ to spend time with me."

Snape just looked on, wondering exactly when it was that hell had frozen over. Then he turned and left in a cloud of black silk, unable to tell if his newfound respect for the boy had grown, or vanished.

'_Serves him right, the bastard. Ra but I've wanted to do that for so long. Now what am I supposed to do about these chains? I can barely move…But I have to. If I'm going to get revenge, I have to be able to move. Besides, whoever it is that's watching me doesn't need to know of my current…weakness. I suppose I can start by sitting up…and I won't let myself lay down again until my body can't handle the strain. Eventually My body will be used to it and ignore it, just like the beatings.'_

And so Harry spent the next two hours forcing himself into a sitting position before he fell into an exhausted sleep.

_**(Draco's POV)**_

0o0o0o0o0o0o

He was dreaming again. That was the first thing that popped into Draco's mind. He had to be. How else would he be high above the manor, without a broom? And the snow. It wasn't even September yet, it was impossible for there to be this much snow. Draco shivered, noticing that he wore only a pair of black silk boxers. No wonder he was cold. Floating 50 feet above Malfoy Manor while it was snowing and the wind was howling was bound to do that to a person. Wait a minute…that didn't sound right. You weren't supposed to be able to freeze your ass off in a dream. He would know, he'd studied dreams a lot since the start of the summer. Which it still was.

'_What the hell is with the snow? And…and why the hell am I drifting __**away **__from the manor? It's __**my **__dream, shouldn't I be able to control it?…no luck. This is definitely __**not **__normal. Damn it's cold. Am I moving faster? Hey wait! I can't see the manor! Where am…oh. Hogwarts? Why am I here? Who… is that Severus? I wonder what's wrong with him. He looks positively livid.' _Draco smirked as he floated passed his godfather's room.

'_Wait… Someone can see me…I feel it.'_

"**I told you I'd be back young Master. Are you prepared?"**

'_Prepared? Prepared for what? What the hell is going on here?'_

"**Why, a war young one. I thought you'd know that…"**

'_You're with Dumbledore?'_

"**Ra no! Not that war. It is pale in comparison to ours."**

'_Who are you anyway? And what war? I know of no other war…'_

"**Hmmm….perhaps you are not prepared then…I am called Julian, and I am your Guardian. It is my duty to protect and prepare you, young Master. The war is waged between many races, an underground feud that Voldemort is trying to manipulate."**

'_Protect me? From what? And what are you, exactly?'_

"**I am to protect you from the dark wizards, water and earth elementals, some vampires, and the Dark Veela. They all wish to either use you to win, kill you, or to breed you."**

'_Breed? I am not a fucking animal! And… why would any of them want to kill me, or use me for that matter?'_

"**Only the Forgotten Ones have secrets from him, and as such you are much desired. But I wouldn't mention any of this to anyone. You'll learn more on your 17th birthday. I will be watching, My Darling Ice Prince."**

'_Wait! What the fuck is going on? Tell me damn it! What the fucking hell is a Dark Veela?'_

0o0o0o0o0o0o

And suddenly Draco was staring into furious molten silver eyes.

'_Fuck.'_

"Draco." his father glared as he yanked his son into an upright position, sitting on his son's legs and preventing him from escaping.

"Where did you hear of Dark Veelas?"

"No… Nowhere father." _'Damn…I'm gonna get in trouble for stuttering…'_

Lucius grabbed his son's shoulders and pulled him close, until they were inches apart.

"Don't lie to me Dragon. Tell me what you know. NOW." He commanded.

Draco gulped. He had the feeling this was not going to be good. He looked down and licked his lips, trying desperately to think of a suitable answer.

What he didn't realize was that both he and his father had started to glow. Nor did he notice how the angry look in his father's eyes was concealing panic. Or how Lucius's eyes seemed to be changing shape, becoming more almond like and a light blue in color. He didn't see how two of the books on his shelf had fallen to the floor, pages fluttering and then stopping at a certain point. He didn't see the crystalline form of a man in the window, struggling with all his power to get in. And he didn't hear the same man's screams to flee.

All of this was happening in a matter of seconds, and before Draco could reply he felt fire shoot through his blood, eyes flying to his father's face, realizing what it was he was feeling. Lucius was kissing him, with a passion so strong he had never imagined possible. And before he could stop himself, he was kissing back with just as much fire.

Cool lips caressed cool lips, a pale hand stroking a boy's cheek and becoming entangled in silky silver hair. Ice blue eyes stared into glowing silver, neither one moving to stop. Then, a gasp, and a sharp tongue invading the icy canal of a child's mouth. One tongue stroked another in a struggle for dominance, fire slowly filling Draco's mouth, throat, chest, and then flowing on until his whole body was flaming with need.

'_But this… this is so wrong…What's going on? Why is he doing this? Why am I letting him? I can't stop… but... it's not right…but I __**need**__ this…'_

And suddenly small hands wrapped around Lucius's neck, pulling him even closer until he lay on top of the boy. All the while their eyes were locked, neither one understanding quite what was going on, or how to stop it.

'_But…it's so warm…I need this…I need more! Give me more!'_

And suddenly the glow in Draco's eyes darkened, turning dark stormy gray, and he rolled over, pinning his father to the bed, never breaking the kiss. He lay pressed against the man, biting his father's tongue, his eyes smirking as Lucius groaned.

When the older man tried to reverse their spots, his son slammed him back into the bed. Shock was clearly written in both their eyes, but neither could deny that, at this moment, Draco was the one in control. And Draco tried to sink into his father, to become a part of him. He was _sooo_ warm…

And Draco was drowning in the smell and taste of his father. He smelled like the air on an icy winter day and vanilla, and he tasted like… Draco's eyes grew wide. He tasted like blood. Lots of it. And Draco realized he had tasted blood from the start.

The screaming from outside the window grew louder, yet no one heard it. And the Malfoy males glowed ever brighter, lost in a world of light.

Just as quickly as the light filled the room, it left. And the figure outside the window uttered one word before he disappeared in a flurry of snow.

"**Fuck."**

**

* * *

**

So, what do you think? no Lucius is not in love with Draco, yes there is a reason for that, yes it is relevant to the story. I'm sorry if it grosses anyone out, but the story can't progress without it. please please please review, I have plans for this story and would hate for it to die. Though I haven't updated it in so long I doubt anyone really cares….

Oh, and at some point someone made a comment about Lucius using a muggle phone, that's because it's a way for him to communicate with others without alerting the dark lord. I forgot that I erased that part when I edited the chapter it was ion. –sweatdrop-

love you all,

Lunadia


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